Assurance
by gryffindormischief
Summary: Sirius never quite fit in at Grimmauld Place.


A/N: This is from a slightly misread prompt, but I've always wanted to do a fic with some James & Sirius time that included the Potters, so hopefully you all enjoy it!

* * *

Sirius slammed the ancient, dark wood door closed behind him as he stormed into the room he'd crafted into a space that was both a safe haven and an eternal monument to his rebellion. Various unmoving muggle posters stared at him with unseeing, unmoving eyes, as he strode toward the cluttered desk, brushing aside various magazines, a mix of Quidditch and motorbikes, searching for some sort of distraction to push the echoing sounds of his mother's screeches from his ears.

As he recalled her rail against halfbloods, muggleborns, and blood traitors alike, his anger bubbled up again, the rage that often lead to his less than well-received biting responses. Mindlessly, Sirius shoved various scraps of parchment and letters from James, Remus, and Peter, strewn across the top, accidentally unearthing the small hand mirror James had gifted him on his last birthday.

In the cloudy surface, Sirius could see the black and blue shadow darkening across his sharp cheekbone, skin split near his temple and tender to the touch. As he drew his probing fingers away with a wince, the mirror shimmered and revealed a face that wasn't his own, his best mate already elaborating on his latest plan for hijinks once the Hogwarts was back in session.

James' grin flickered as his eyes darted over Sirius' face, eyes darkening as his jaw tightened, "Again?"

Sirius answered affirmatively with a short nod, fighting back the embarrassment he felt at showing weakness, even when it was beyond his control. Then, in the classic James fashion, the young Potter won his internal battle against the urge to fly into an angry rage complete with copious swearing and possible minor destruction of property, and changed the subject, setting his best mate at ease.

After passing a few pleasant hours talking nonsense with James and studiously ignoring the grumbling stomach that resulted from being banished to his room without supper, James' eyelids started to get heavy, face drooping tiredly on the other end. Taking note, Sirius smirked, "Off to bed with you sleeping beauty."

"Oh Padfoot, you think I'm beautiful?" James smirked.

"Stuff it wanker."

"The height of wit, Black."

Shooting a perfectly executed obscene gesture toward his mate, Sirius signed off and sighed, tucking his hands behind his head as he lounged diagonally across his unmade bed. Periodically, he considered fishing some reading material from beneath the bed, but each time, laziness won out as he stared unseeingly at the dreary canopy overhead.

Once he became overwhelmed by boredom, the sliver of the moon peaking through his heavy curtains, cutting a pale glow across his cluttered floor and mixing with the circle of yellow light emanating from his bedside lamp, Sirius flopped onto his stomach, rifling through discarded clothes, chocolate frog rappers, and old issues of _Quidditch Today_ , searching for something to fill his too empty thoughts.

Just as he was about to settle for last month's _Witch Weekly_ Remus had sent him as a gag, boasting an exclusive interview with Celestina Warbeck on her latest marriage and break up, three sharp raps at the windowpane broke the silence.

Nearly falling off the bed head first, Sirius stumbled over cautiously, brows knit together in confusion until the light glinted of a pair of round silver spectacles and a flashy smile cut through the dark night.

Glancing behind him as if expecting his parents to have somehow appeared silently, ready to crush the last bit of hope he hid so deep, often feeling almost unchangeably intertwined with the gangly boy waiting outside his window. But he shook his head, shaggy hair slipping over itself gracefully as he slid the window open, "Prongs?"

Grin widening, James hovered closer, fighting to keep his voice at a whisper, "Get your wand. I'm spiriting you away."

* * *

"I don't know what you've heard but I require wining and dining," Sirius drawled, tucking his wand into the back pocket of his trendy jeans and grabbing his soft leather jacket from the back of his desk chair.

James rolled his eyes with a dramatic huff, "Just get on you numpty."

Not sparing a chance back, Sirius mounted the windowpane and threw his leg over the racing broom, settling in behind James, gripping his friend's waist comfortably, "Where are we going oh great rescuer?"

"Ice cream."

"Who crawls through someone's window at 4am to go for ice cream?!"

Swooping through the chilled evening air in great arcs, the streets relatively empty below as they soared over the residential area, " _Technically_ I didn't crawl through your window."

"I think I may hate you."

Gasping, James clutched his chest as they flew, wind whipping past their cheeks, chapping lips and ruffling already unruly black locks, "You are quite the ungrateful damsel in distress. That'll teach me to exercise my Gryffindor chivalry."

Snorting, Sirius unleashed a carefully aimed flick on the back of James' head, "So where are we off to on our tour of the charming temptress that is London by night?"

James snickered, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a careless finger, "You're so dramatic sometimes it's painful."

"I see your mouth moving but all I hear is 'James is a jealous prat.'"

Swerving beneath a dewy cloud shimmering in the night air, James shot a glance back over his shoulder, "Keep that up and I'll withhold ice cream."

"We both know that would never happen. Euphemia loves me more than you," Sirius shot back, leaning backwards as the wind whipped through his silky black locks, blending seamlessly into the night sky flecked with winking stars.

Twisting into a corkscrew, James smirked as Sirius slid forward and gripped his waist tightly, feigning nonchalance, "You may get mum on your side, but if I tell dad you made fun of his name…"

"Fleamont could never be angry at this beautiful face."

"Snotty _and_ over-confident. 'sides, your face is easily made _less_ beautiful," James drawled as they dropped sharply toward the carefully groomed emerald lawn that surrounded the Potter's property.

"I'll just be _rugged_ then. Face it Potter, you can't win," Sirius said, barking out a laugh as they touched down on the gravel drive.

Laughing goodnaturedly, James pressed pressed his palm to the back door, which glowed briefly before it swung open gently, "How'd you like to wake up with frogspawn in your bed."

Fleamont and Euphemia's voices were a quiet murmur coming from the kitchen, a low glow emanating through the darkened empty hallways. James hung his cloak and broom on their respective hooks, Sirius following suit, "Euphemia'd be madder than a newt and we both know you're too scared to get on her bad side when the new Comet is coming out this fall."

James nodded, conceding the point as both toed off their trainers and started down the portrait lined hall, creaks coming from the centuries old wood floors beneath their socked feet.

Darting his eyes to the ground and flicking his hair from his face with practiced grace, Sirius tugged James to a hault just outside the kitchen where the elder Potters laughed happily, "Thanks. For coming to get me."

James' eyes swept over Sirius' face, lingering on the darkening purple ring that stained his cheekbone. He offered a small smile, hazel eyes meeting steely grey, "Anytime mate."

Both stood silently for a handful of moments, uncharacteristically bashful until James shoved his friend and Sirius gripped his neck in a headlock, dragging the frowning Potter heir around the corner.

As Fleamont flicked his wand, the necessary accouterments for complete ice cream sundaes floated toward the table, Euphemia smirked at the boys, "At last my favorite son has arrived."

James rolled his eyes as he dropped into one of the empty chairs, "You're a regular barrel of laughs mum."

"Don't be jealous James, we just have a special bond," Sirius answered, pouring sprinkles directly into his mouth as Fleamont scooped ice cream into four bowls.

"Kiss my arse Sirius, it has a special bond with your lips," James drawled.

Fleamont let out a choking laugh around his mouthful of vanilla bean laden with copius amounts of warmed chocolate fudge. Euphemia shot him a glare before turning to the boys, "James, watch your language."

Sirius and James descended into a rather childish exchange of facial contortions while the elder Potter stared off unseeingly behind his smudged and slightly crooked spectacles, "Listen to your mother James, she used up the household's monthly allotment for swearing after she and Mrs Longbottom lost that Gobstones tournament."

"Fenella Macmillan is a bloody _cheat_."


End file.
